


The Best Kind of Hurt

by the_write_day



Category: The Purge (Movies)
Genre: Christmas setting, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Mentions other characters, One Shot, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 09:38:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11438166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_write_day/pseuds/the_write_day
Summary: Leo always has a home for the holidays.(Post "Election Year.")





	The Best Kind of Hurt

2028  
DECEMBER 24  
1373 DAYS SINCE THE LAST PURGE

Leo stopped on the front porch, eyes locked on the doorbell without reaching for it. His fingers tightened around the wrapped box he held, the white bow on top sparkling in the porch light. It was almost eleven, but they’d still left the light on for him.

Sometimes it hurt, this time of year. Knowing he always had somewhere to go, somewhere to be. Knowing the porch light would always be on for him, no matter how late he was. And he was always late, every year. They didn’t mind, and he was getting better at not minding. So sometimes it hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt.

He was stalling. He knew there was no reason for this hesitation, and less time to indulge in it. Charlie had been president for three years now, and she was great, but she still needed him by her side most of the time. This single vacation he took every year was a luxury, one that spanned a whopping two whole days. He didn’t have a minute to waste.

He didn’t move yet, though he finally looked away from the doorbell. The front door was decorated with a very large handmade wreath, with heavy red ribbon draped artfully around the edges. Through the window on the right side of the door he could see the twinkle of tree lights not too far in the distance. It was all very festive, and it was the kind of home he knew Rico had wanted for his daughter, who in turn wanted it for her daughter. He’d never met Papa Rico, but he’d heard enough about him over the years to know that.

That thought was finally enough to make him reach out and push the doorbell. It chimed inside the house, and Leo held his breath for just a second, hearing the immediate thump of footsteps coming toward him. Seconds later, the door flung in, releasing a gust of cinnamon-scented warmth over him.

Of course, it paled in comparison to the smile that lit up Cali’s face when she saw him. The snow should’ve melted in the face of that brilliance, and he barely had time to move the present he held aside before she threw her arms around his neck.

“It sure is a dick move, getting here when Christmas Eve is almost over,” she said into his coat collar.

He smiled, sliding an arm around her shoulders and giving her a quick, tight squeeze. “Some things have improved over the years. The TSA is not one of them.”

She laughed and hugged him tight, lingering far longer than his own hug had. Sometimes this hurt too, the same way it had that day in the car when he’d held her hand over his heart. But like that day, when he’d let her and her mom take care of him, this was a good kind of hurt.

Another few seconds passed before she stepped back. “Mom’s asleep. She really tried to stay up for you, but there was so…” She trailed off, her gaze having finally landed on the present he held. Her mouth formed a perfect _O_ for just a moment before it opened again. “What is _that_?”

The intrigue in her voice was hard to miss, and Leo’s fingers tightened briefly on the box again. It was the first present he’d bought for someone in five years. It felt inadequate and overwhelming at the same time. “It’s a box that goes under your tree till tomorrow.”

She looked up, eyes meeting his, and he almost expected her to call him out on any number of unspoken things, as was her superpower. He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t, though. Cali had always read him well. Instead, she just smiled again and walked backward, gesturing for him to follow. “Let me show you where it is, then.”

“Has it moved since last year?”

“I finally got my way,” she said, a clear trace of smugness in her voice. He understood that when they entered the empty living room, where the tree had been last year, and she continued into the more informal family room. A massive eight-foot-tall tree stood in the corner, decorated to within an inch of its life, with the star on top beaming light throughout the entire room. What had been a mere twinkle from the front stoop was basically blinding this close.

Eva was asleep on the couch facing it. Leo couldn’t imagine the exhaustion needed to sleep in that much light.

“Are we sure your way was the way to go?” he asked as he walked over to put his present gingerly toward the side of the pile already under the tree.

“It’s the only way to go,” Cali said promptly, crowding in beside him to organize his present more neatly into the rest of the pile. He wasn’t sure if she did it just to get a feel for what was inside the box, but he stepped back to let her fiddle to her heart’s content.

Also deciding that arguing over whose way was the right way was futile at best, he asked, “How long are you home?”

“Pretty much another month. Classes don’t start till the end of January.”

“And you’re still stuck on history as your major?”

“I’m not going to change my mind no matter how much you nag me.”

He grimaced, absently pulling a throw from the back of the couch and tucking it over Eva. She stirred a bit but didn’t wake. “There’s no career in that, Cali.”

“I don’t want to have this argument again,” she said on a groan, standing with her hands on her hips as she surveyed the present pile. “God, you and Laney are the worst. Let’s save it for over coffee tomorrow morning when she and Marcos get here. Anyway, I got this awesome letter from Liz a few days ago; she’s probably not going to make it here tomorrow, but she’s planning by New Year’s. She was really hoping to see you, but she understands how busy you are, and…”

She kept talking about their mutual friends, bending down to resituate the presents again. Leo listened silently, thinking idly how his closest friends now were those he’d met during the last few Purges. Then she moved on to her friends at school, including a friend who’d become a boyfriend and was now back to friend status, what classes she was looking forward to, how her mom was doing, what plans they had for her winter break, and on and on.

At some point Leo sat on the arm of the couch by Eva’s feet, simply watching Cali as she talked and fiddled with the presents. He wondered if this chatter was what had actually put Eva to sleep, but he was smiling even as he thought it. It was almost painfully normal in a way it wouldn’t have been some years ago, and listening to her everyday life relaxed him in a way nothing else did.

He had a family here. That knowledge hurt in a good way too. There was comfort and warmth and caring here, and the way that Cali talked to him, as if continuing a conversation that never really stopped, enveloped him even more than the bright light of the tree star. That’s why he knew the light would always be on for him, even if he only visited once a year. And that hurt in a particularly good way.

“Okay, it’s bedtime, or Santa will never come,” Cali said as she rose to her feet and dusted her hands, apparently finally satisfied with the arrangement. Leo couldn’t see any particular difference, aside from his present being right in the middle instead of off to the side.

“Santa will always come for you,” he said.

“And for you,” she said, turning to look at him with another brilliant smile and a mischievous tilt of her head to the side. He followed that tilt with his eyes to see a stocking with his name on it hung on the fireplace mantel. It was stuffed, and he saw Twizzlers and Tic Tacs peeking over the top.

He smiled. “Doesn’t that mean he’s already come, then?”

“Don’t ruin the magic,” she said. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

She led him upstairs to the guest room he favored, which made him smile again. She smiled back at him, then gave him another hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome home, sir.” Then she laughed and headed back downstairs.

A little later, lying under the simple blue comforter he’d pointed out years ago that Eva had ultimately bought when decorating this room, Leo smiled up at the ceiling. It wasn’t a very big smile, and it was a little pensive around the edges. He’d lost his son almost six years ago. He would never get his boy back, and no one, _no one_ , could ever replace that loss.

But Cali’s “sir” had sounded a lot like _Dad_ , and he knew what it felt like to have a daughter now, had known that feeling for a few years. And it was different and wonderful and terrifying, and it hurt, a lot, but he wouldn’t give it up for anything.

Maybe that was the best kind of hurt.


End file.
